


Leave A Note

by Arkenshield



Category: Sherlock (TV), Sherlock Holmes & Related Fandoms
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-10-13
Updated: 2013-10-13
Packaged: 2017-12-29 06:30:20
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 382
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1002082
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Arkenshield/pseuds/Arkenshield
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sherlock Holmes finally sets foot into 221b Baker Street for the first time after the fall, unguarded against what terror awaits him.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Leave A Note

The door creaks open, and a dark-haired man steps in, his cyan eyes scanning the remnants of 221b Baker Street.

The heating is off, water drips continuously from the overhead pipe, and the horrifying stench of chemical permeates the flat...

A familiar looking laptop emanating its depressing glow stands solemn on an otherwise unoccupied couch, he strides over and picks it up. 

 _‘Hello Sherlock.’_ \-- The unpublished blog entry reads. His brows tighten.

On the side table, a syringe and a needle lie forgotten.

_‘Remember the H.O.U.N.D., Sherlock? The chemical weapon that induces fear. Who knew it would come in handy.’_

“John...”

_‘--It brought you back to me again, Sherlock. Every night I would see you, sitting on the kitchen chair, staring into your microscope, or lying on bored the couch -- you were always bored, weren’t you? I would hear your uncaring words, your dismissal, feel your indifference. I was able to sense your presence again, Sherlock. You were... with me, and it was comforting.’_

Drip. The water drips amidst the dead silence.

_‘One would naturally wonder why. But I believe it’s already crossed your brilliant mind, Sherlock: the fear-inducing drug, and YOU. Find the link, Sherlock, look for the correlation. Aren’t you the greatest detective that ever lived?’_

His mind races, and blanks. 

And blanks. 

Blank.

_‘I’m feeling a twinge of disappointment here, Sherlock, but of course you wouldn’t have guessed. It’s sentimental after all, and caring is not an advantage.’_

No, it isn’t.

_‘My greatest fear, Sherlock, is to see you again--’_

“John...”

_‘-- Because I know that someday, someday I’d lose you again, and I cannot re-live that horror ever again. No, Sherlock. You owe me a fall.’_

The dreadful icy chill seeps its way into his core as Sherlock Holmes slowly ascends the stairs and approaches the doctor’s bedroom. 

_‘I know you would be coming for the last time tonight, your last time, Sherlock. Our last time, just you and me. So I decided to leave you a note.’_

_..._ Cold and unfeeling, chilled and uncaring. 

 _The detective stands still, staring down at the body._  

His limbs lie splayed, his parched lips crack. His eyes open wide, staring into the dreadful nothingness that only Sherlock could see...

 

_‘-- Because that’s what people do, don’t they? Leave a note.’_


End file.
